


Hjälp Mig Att Bo - Help Me To Stay

by Remember_Ember



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Character Death, Depression, F/M, Gore, Suicide, Svenska | Swedish, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Ember/pseuds/Remember_Ember
Summary: Hjälp mig att bo - SwedishHelp me to stay - EnglishFelix shook as tears ran down his face, his hands holding the heavy object, struggling to bring it to his forehead. He let out a choked noise as he squeezed the trigger, feeling the bullet penetrate his skull as a loud bang resounded in the room around him...His eyes popped open as a small clatter sounded at his feet. He swallowed and sat up, grabbing the bullet from the floor. He was careful not to lean on the wall, or look behind himself. The smell was already starting to make his stomach churn... His eyes filled with tears as he brought his hand to his forehead, feeling nothing but his regular old forehead."Why... why won't I just fucking die?" he whispered to himself, turning around to stare at the brains splattered across the wall, his brains, before looking up and screaming, "Why won't you just let me DIE?!"





	Hjälp Mig Att Bo - Help Me To Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Gore warning: Mentioned and vaguely described gore  
> Trigger warning: Depicted suicide attempts

Felix shook as tears ran down his face, his hands holding the heavy object, struggling to bring it to his forehead. He let out a choked noise as he squeezed the trigger, feeling the bullet penetrate his skull as a loud bang resounded in the room around him and his vision went to blissful darkness.

His eyes popped open as a small clatter sounded at his feet. He swallowed and sat up, grabbing the bullet from the floor. He was careful not to lean on the wall, or look behind himself. The smell was already starting to make his stomach churn... His eyes filled with tears as he brought his hand to his forehead, feeling nothing but his regular old forehead.

"Why... why won't I just fucking die?" he whispered to himself, turning around to stare at the brains splattered across the wall, his brains, before looking up and screaming, "Why won't you just let me DIE?!"

Felix's knees gave out and he lowered to the floor, still staring up. Tears streamed down his face and his shoulders shook violently. His hair began to stick to his forehead as he began questioning why,  _why won't I just fucking die..?_

...

Felix slowly stood up, throat sore and raw from screaming, his eyes and head throbbing painfully from his tears, his knees aching from kneeling for so long. He wiped his resume with his sleeve, sniffling quietly. He looked back at the mess he made across the wall of his soundproofed recording room, before heading out of the room as quietly as he could, looking for cleaning supplies.

He stopped by his room to pull out some comfortable clothes he could slip into when he was done the cleaning but figured it would be better to clean while wearing his already blood and brain covered clothes. He quickly found his supplies, glad they were where he'd left them.

Once returning to the room he quickly got to work, spraying and scrubbing all he could. After what felt like hours Felix felt the wall was clean. There were still a couple bits on his floor that just wouldn't come off, but it's not like anyone would see them, and if someone did he'd just say he'd spilled some juice or something and didn't clean it up fast enough. Or... something.

He stepped back to survey his work, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming stench of cleaning products. And at the sight of the disgusting watery goop that filled his bucket that had once been filled with clean water. He swallowed and grabbed said bucket, being careful not to spill it as he carried it to the bathroom to dump it. He got rid of the evidence of his  _attempted_  suicide.

For that's all it was. A failed attempt.

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and sighed, stepping into his recording room and turning on his computer. He chose to ignore the gun laying on his desk for now, knowing he would probably use it again tomorrow. He could only hope it would give different results. He set everything up for a new game, before taking a deep breath and painting a smile on his face.

"Howsit goin' bros?"

...

Felix flinched as his Skype tone went off. He was in the middle of cleaning up his newest mess and prayed whoever was calling wouldn't call back. He didn't bother answering, knowing if it was important they would call again... He instead continued to clean up the blood and brains off his wall.

He froze when his Skype tone went off again, sounding more insistent even though he knew that was logically impossible. He stood and carefully checked the caller ID. It was his best friend, Marzia. He swallowed and looked behind him, it wasn't clean enough back there, she would surely see it. He quickly ignored the call and went back to scrubbing his wall and floor, desperate to be done, knowing she would worry. He heard another tone, this one shorter and more reminiscent of a small bell. A message.

He again made his way to the computer, dirty rag clenched in his hands. It was Marzia again.

_Felix? Please answer me._

_I'm worried about you._

_Felix please, I know you're reading these, I know you've seen them. Please answer._

_Felix?_

Felix swallowed and his mouse hovered over the call button. He so desperately wanted to call her, to talk with her. He hadn't seen her in months, her having moved away due to a family issue. She said she wanted to stay in as much contact as possible but... He didn't believe her. He sighed and turned away, heading back to finish his cleaning. He hadn't noticed he pressed the call button, the ringing on his end is silent.

He scrubbed slowly and sadly as he got caught up in thoughts of Marzia. He swallowed back tears as his cleaning became more vigorous. The blood still covered the upper half of his wall where it had splattered, and there were some fairly large brain particles strewn across the wall too. He froze once more when he heard a small gasp come from behind him.

Felix slowly turned around to see his worst nightmare, Marzia staring at him through his computer screen as he cleaned. Her eyes were wide, full of confusion and concern. He dropped the rag he was holding and rushed forward to turn off the camera and end the call.

"Felix- wha- wait, I don't understand. What are you-" she was cut off as he breathed out through his nose heavily. He felt tears rising in his eyes and his breaths started to become gasps as his chest tightened.

_She knows. Fan, she fucking knows. She saw it. She saw the mess._ _She's_ _going to hate me_ _now_ _, she hates me. Javla helvete... how could I have been so stupid? She saw!_ _She's_ _never_ _going to come back and_ _she's_ _going_ _to_ _hate me and oh god, oh god, what am_ _I_ _going to do?! I need her, I need Marzia, I_ _can't_ _do this alone... Please, I already_ _can't_ _die,_ _don't_ _make me do it alone too!_

He couldn't breathe, his thoughts zipping back and forth between stating a fact, making assumptions, and begging every known deity he could think of that his assumptions would be wrong even though he knows he doesn't deserve that. He swallowed and gasped and was a pitiful heap on the floor, the edges of his vision darkening because  _there_ _wasn't_ _enough air. I_ _can't_ _breathe. Someone help me!_

...

Felix woke up in his recording room, the foul, sickly-sweet stench of blood filling his nose and making him want to hurl. He whimpered as his head throbbed and his chest ached when he sat up. He blinked blearily and frowned at his messy room. It was going to take even longer to clean up the stains now, what happened-  _Marzia_.

He raced to his computer with wide eyes.

_Twenty missed calls from : Marziapan_   
_Thirty-two unread messages from : Marziapan_

He let out a shuddering, fearful breath and clicked on the messages. He didn't bother reading all of them, just glancing at the last couple. What he saw made his blood run cold.

_I'm coming over on the first flight to you. You better still be alive you Swedish meatball._ _Don't_ _die on me._

Felix could only frantically look at the time it was sent-  _Yesterday at 4_ _:25 pm_ \- and the time now-  _6:53 am_ \- before turning around with a noise of panic and grabbing his scrubbing cloth. He needed to finish before Marzia got there, he couldn't let her see the gore on his wall up close. He began to scrub fervently, closing his eyes tightly as he cleaned. He kept cleaning for... he wasn't sure how long it was, but it felt like both hours and mere seconds had passed when he felt small, delicate arms wrapping around his own arms and tugging him away from his walls and floor. The blood and gore were long gone from them now.

He whined when the small and soft hands pulled the scrubber from his hands and whimpered when his still grasping hands found soft fabric. His pathetic noises only grew when he felt a small hand stroking his hair and then he was being pulled forward into a conferring hug and  _he_ _didn't_ _deserve this_.

"Felix, sweetie, it's okay. I'm here now, it's okay... let it all out Fe..." he heard a soft, familiar, comforting female voice whisper to him. He relaxed then, listening to the words as the tears spilled from his eyes unbidden. His silent tears soon turned to wailing sobs as Marzia held him, rocking him gently as they sat huddled together on his floor.

After a long while, Felix's sobs had quieted down to small hiccups and sniffles. Marzia was still playing with his hair and rubbing his back, and he let out a soft noise of protest when she went to pull away, why she felt the need to move he didn't know. She smiled sadly at him as he frowned self-consciously ( _does she hate me?_ ).

"My back is starting to hurt, and I'm sure yours isn't much better, Felix. Why don't we move to a couch or bed and let you have some good rest? You look like you haven't had a good nights sleep in weeks," Felix just nodded hesitantly, waiting for Marzia to get up before following after her, grabbing her hand as she left the room. He knew he didn't deserve any human contact, that he was being incredibly selfish, but at that moment he wanted comfort because he had been going through this for  _months_ all aloneand he just wants it to stop. It felt like he was in a never-ending cycle where he would attempt to commit suicide, wake up again, clean up his mess, record, nap a bit just so the bros wouldn't notice much, eat a bit if he was hungry, get lost in his thoughts, repeat.

Marzia smiled at him and squeezed his hand, leading him from his damned recording room and into his bedroom. She gently lay him down on his bed and tucked him in, before climbing in next to him and laying on the covers beside his blanket-covered form. She gently played with his hair and began humming softly. The soothing movements and soft tune mixed with his bed- which was far more comfortable than his chair, no matter how far it flipped back- made Felix realize just how tired he was. He smiled softly and nuzzled Marzia's hand as his eyes fluttered closed and he fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

...

Felix groaned and pulled his blanket over his head as light streamed in through his open window. The blenders were warm and comforting. And he had no will to move from their set embrace.

"Felix, come on! You gotta get up," he heard a voice say. He jumped from his bed in fear, even though he will deny that fact till the day he dies. If he can ever die. His eyes widened as he fell back, falling off his bed. Marzia chuckled from above him, a smile on her face and the sun illuminating her hair so it looked golden.  _Marzia? But_ _isn't_ _she in_ _Italy_ _with- oh... right..._

Felix frowned and sat up, pushing himself against the wall so as to steady himself as he stood. He wanted to yell at her. He also wanted to apologize to her. And hold her close because he missed his best friend while she was away. He wanted to explain everything and hope she can help. He wanted to scream and cry and laugh and smile at the sight of her back with him.

"Why are you back here? With me? I don't deserve you so... why did you come back to me and my messed up world?" he asked quietly, standing next to his bed with his shoulders slumped low and his head hanging so he can't see her. He didn't want to see the look of realization he knew would be there. The look that would spell his loneliness, when she realized just how worthless he was. How much of a burden he was.

Which is why he was surprised when he felt her hands on his own, tugging him back onto the bed. He was startled when she pushed him down and then somehow managed to turn him into the little spoon,his face nestled into the crook of her neck (Marzia is the same size as him, height wise, and he was unhealthily small at the moment, it can't have been that hard... not that Felix would ever admit that out loud). He nearly burst into tears when she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and told him how she thought he was precious and worth every moment they could possibly have together.

"Hjälp mig att bo, Marzia..." he whispered through his choked sobs. He didn't know if she heard him, nevermind if she understood what he'd said, but he didn't care. He just quietly let the tears fall as he was held close as if he were something to be treasured. He still didn't believe it... but maybe he could do this.

Felix may be on a long road to recovery, one that currently may have no end in sight... but he had hope. He had a friend who didn't have to verbally promise for him to know she was going to stay. He could try to get better... for Marzia.

...

Felix stared in shock at his wall. He barely remembered doing it. He was in the office, had been thinking of doing a reading your comments type of video... both Jacks and Mark's series seemed popular, and maybe his 'fans' would appreciate a different type of interaction than him reviewing their shit... and it got worse.

He'd thought he was better.

He hadn't done something even remotely like this since Marzia came back all those years ago when he still had that weird floppy hair and actually  _played games, because he wanted to_. And now... now everything had gone to shit. His show had been canceled, a show he'd been really proud of. Something he made with his friends, people he hadn't believed would stay so long through his bull. Then a joke he made had been blown out of proportion, making him more popular than ever, but he'd never wanted that. His friends were all disappointed in him, his fans mostly hated him, the world thought he was shit...

But he hadn't thought this through. His fans had sent in some wonderful, if weird and terrifying at times, things. He has received art, videos, posts, memes... He thought he'd go through some nicer (and a couple funny but not-nice ones just for giggles) comments and answer questions. It was obvious he hadn't gone through his comment section in a long time.

So many of them seemed bad. Criticizing his every move, pointing out every flaw. Some were still hooked on his past mistakes. And no matter how far down he scrolled he couldn't escape them. And then he... he did  _that_.

Felix held in a sob as he pulled his legs up to his chest, tears pulling at his eyes. He'd done it again. He'd done it again and he  _still_ couldn't die. He knew he had to clean it up before Marzia came by to pick him up and take him home. She wouldn't be happy to find this... but he couldn't bring himself to move. He just stared at the wall in a numb sort of horror. He didn't even remember pulling out the gun. He would swear on his grandmother's grave he didn't know where he pulled it from. But it sat there, oh so innocent on his recording table. And a lone bullet sat on the floor, covered in sticky blood, right next to where his head had been.

He jumped when he heard a soft knock on his door, "Felix?" Marzia called softly, "Felix are you okay..?"

Felix whimpered but otherwise said nothing. He couldn't. His throat felt glued shut and his tongue felt heavy. He made a noise of protest when she claimed to be coming in before she opened the door.  _She_ _can't_ _come_ _in_ _. She_ _can't_ _come_ _on_ _she'll see!_

"Felix- oh..." Felix stared at her with wide eyes as she surveyed the room, her eyes flicking over the gore- his brain- spread across the wall, lingering on the gun on his desk am the bullet on the floor, before finally resting on him. She stepped forward and sat down, pulling him into her lap as best she could. He ignored how she pointedly refused to look at the wall.

"Felix. What happened?" she asked in a soft voice. He let out a small noise and clutched her shirt, shaking his head. He hoped she would understand that he didn't want to talk yet. Not here. She sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She whispered sweet things to him, before he gently pushed her away, staring up at her with big and forlorn eyes.

"I have to clean up my mess... please let me clean up. Then we can leave and I can tell you what happened..." he said softly, knowing she was curious. He figured if he made her wait she would stick around longer so she can hear it. Marzia nodded and stood.

"I'll... do you want me to help?" she said, keeping her eyes on him as she motioned toward his mess. He wanted her help, he wanted someone to stay with him in the room and even just make some white noise for him to listen to... but he could see how uncomfortable it made his sweet, innocent, little Marzia feel. He shook his head.

"I'll be quick..." he said softly. Marzia nodded but waited in the room for him to stand, before walking with him to fetch some cleaning supplies. They didn't have the stuff that would work the best, but it would have to do for now. Marzia helped him carry stuff back, both silent. Marzia stopped at the door to the recording room, and he sighed, grabbing what he could of what she was carrying and taking it in with him.

He worked quickly, like riding a bike how to clean his mess from the walls came back to him all too quickly. He finished within a couple hours, when he was done, Marzia was still waiting for him outside the door. He smiled shakily as she led him outside, into her car, and then all the way home. She sat him on the couch, before doing the same and staring at him, expectant.

"...I was gonna read some comments..." he started softly, recounting what he could remember, "I don't remember pulling it out, Marzia... I don't remember doing it," he sniffled, "But I killed myself because I'm pathetic and can't take some bad comments and then I fucking  _woke up_ again. I can't fucking  _die_ when I want to even though I already feel dead and- and I don't know what I did to mess up so bad, Marzia. I don't know why they hate me or where my gun came from or why I won't just  _die_."

Marzia said nothing but pulled his head into her lap. He whimpered and went to push himself way when she stopped him.

"Not everyone hates you. You have friends. You have fans that love you, even if some decide to write shit in your comment section," he knew she was mad now. Marzia never swore. Never, "But to me, you are worth everything Felix.  _Everything._  And I don't know what I would ever do without you. So... for me can you try to tell me if you feel like that? Call me, text me, whatever. But tell me. I don't want you doing this only to find your luck has run out and you can't come back to me..." she said softly, playing with his hair. Felix swallowed, then nodded.

"I will..." he said hesitantly. He was scared, he could admit that. Marzia had been with him for years, had helped him through so much... He had never wanted to hurt her, even though he  _knew_ he eventually would. His face buried closer to her body, tears pushing his eyes painfully.  _I_ _didn't_ _want to hurt_ _her_ _..._

"Jag hjälper dig att bo," her soft voice spoke through his thoughts and he looked up with wide eyes. That was Swedish. That was  _his_ language. It may have been spoken in a more Italian accent, and some words were mispronounced slightly but... but that was  _his birth language_. The tears in his eyes pushed forward and he shook, launching himself at Marzia and holding her as close as he dared.

"Thank you, tack, tack vare, tack, grazie, tack, thank you," he said, repeating the same words in three different languages. He wasn't even sure if he was understandable through his tears, but he hoped Marzia got the idea. He was so thankful for her. He was so thankful.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hjälp mig att bo - Help me to stay [Swedish]
> 
> Jag hjälper dig att bo - I will help you to stay [Swedish]
> 
> Tack / Tack vare - Thank you [Swedish]
> 
> Grazie - Thanks [Italian]


End file.
